


The next morning

by 51PegasiB



Series: Flipping Switches [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bisexuality, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, F/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 17:10:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1436269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/51PegasiB/pseuds/51PegasiB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint wakes up in Natasha's bed the morning after the orgy and doesn't want to let go of his afterglow. They find the perfect way to prolong it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The next morning

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow-up to "Natasha Flips The Switch" but will probably make sense if you read it on its own, too.
> 
> Thanks to Tayefeth for being my beta reader.

Clint had dragged himself to Natasha's suite after the post-battle goings-on, the night before, but had refused to drag himself any further.

He flopped into Natasha's bed, happy and relaxed like he rarely was. He still felt floaty. He wasn't a teenager anymore. Coming three times in one night definitely counted as a draining evening and he was done. Natasha was still standing by the bed. He beckoned to her and patted the space beside him. She sighed. He rolled, sprawling over the bed and looked blearily up at her. 

"That's it. Out!" she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. 

"Nooo," he said. He clung to a pillow in a manner he knew was undignified. He found it pretty difficult to care how it looked. He didn't want to go from serious orgasmic haze to his own bed. "I'll be good. Let me stay."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to get any sleep with you here doing your octopus impression," she said. He thought he detected an undercurrent of fondness. He smiled up at her. She shook her head. "First you'll sprawl, then you'll cling."

"I won't!" he insisted, still clinging to the pillow. 

"Every damn time, Clint!" the exasperation was definitely going to break. He could feel it. 

"No! No!" he muttered. "Look!" He rolled so he was only taking maybe a third of the huge bed.

She sighed again and sank into the remaining bed space. She took the pillow from under his head, since he was still clinging to the one from her side, and settled down to sleep.

He relaxed, again. He unclenched from around the pillow and stuck it under his head. He reached over to take her hand and stroke his thumb over the back of it. She made a disgruntled noise but allowed the contact, so she couldn't be as frustrated with him as she was acting. 

He fell asleep quick and easy and deep in a way he rarely did. He woke up buried in the smell of Natasha. Her hand was on his head, stroking his hair. He tried to pretend to stay asleep so she'd keep doing it, but she knew. She always knew. She patted his head. "Come on, lazy hawk, time to get up."

He hugged her closely and didn't let go. He was still clinging to his post-orgasmic relaxation. He didn't want to move on with his day, yet. Unless, of course, his day could include more orgasms. He was definitely for that. He nuzzled at her neck. 

"Clint," she said, her tone all subsumed warning. He kept going, trailing his tongue from her pulse up her neck to her earlobe, then moved to put his mouth on hers. 

Natasha cut off the kiss. "We don't have time for this.”

He backed off and opened his eyes to look at her. He put on his cheekiest grin. "Says who? We're not on assignment today unless the city or the world abruptly comes under attack! We make our own schedule!"

She rolled her eyes and smiled softly, and she didn't begin the grappling fight that would've resulted with him on the floor, nursing a new bruise and laughing and would result in her loping off to start her day.

Clint answered her smile by softening his own and kissing her, again. This time, Natasha's lips met his and parted. He hummed and slid his fingers over her, stroking down between her breasts. His mouth followed the path his fingers had taken and before she could object again, he was holding her open and sliding his tongue over her clit.

She clutched his hair as he worked. He kept at it with his tongue only till she made an impatient noise. 

He lifted his head up just enough to say "Tell me what you want," before going back to it, flicking his tongue in little circles around her clit. Clint's erection was pressing into the sheets, he ground into them a little, feeling the friction. He moaned into her skin. He wanted to hear her say it. And, really, to give her another chance to back out, if she felt like she needed it. If she said she wanted to go spar, he'd do it. He'd be cranky about it, but he'd do it.

Breathing hard, Natasha slid her fingers into his hair and pulled him up to kiss his mouth. He parted his lips and pressed his full body against her as he flicked his tongue into her mouth. She growled and ground up against him. She pulled back her lips red and wet. "Condoms are in the drawer, next to my little vibrator. Bring both," she said, releasing his hair.

He rolled swiftly for the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed, got the condom and the vibrator and handed the latter to Tasha while he opened the former and rolled it onto his hard cock.

When he faced her, again, she was already pressing the vibrator between her legs, her eyes closed. It was her little one, small enough that it could rest between them while he was sliding into her without causing discomfort or logistical issues. Clint slid his hand down her arm till it was covering hers and kissed her, again. 

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Fuck me?" she asked. 

He laughed. The way she asked was almost polite. "You got it, Sweetness." 

Natasha rolled her eyes at the endearment and reached for him. He slid to cover her body with his. Her legs came up to wrap around him as he slid deep into her with a groan. "Fuck. Yes." 

"And here I thought you'd be all fucked out from yesterday," she said. 

Clint chuckled in between gasps. He planted his hands to either side of her shoulders so she wouldn't have to take all his weight and slid out of her and back in. "I got fucked more than I did any fucking." 

"You sure did. You took Bruce. It was impressive. And pretty," she said. "And then there was Thor."

He moaned, caught between the current sensation of the rhythm of his hips pressing into hers, surrounding him with tight, warm sensation, and the memory of the previous day's exploits. 

"Such a size queen," she shook her head at him and canted her hips so he was driving in deeper. He could feel her vibrator caught between them every time he slid deep into her. He started to slip and lowered more of his weight onto her. He didn't understand how she was able to talk. He really couldn't answer. He closed his eyes and breathed and tried to make it last, clutching one of her hips as he dropped his head into the cradle of her shoulder.

"You must be sore today, though," she murmured into his ear. She traced her tongue over his ear and down his neck, taking advantage of his position to get her mouth over his pulse and bite. His hips hitched and he cried out.

He kept sinking into her over and over again. Blood was pounding in his ears to the point where he couldn't make out what she was saying next, whispering into his ear with those deceptively pretty bow-lips. He turned his head, hungry for her mouth as she rose to meet his thrusts, deadly legs locked around him. All thought of making it last was gone as he was entirely focused on pressure and heat and sensation, the way his skin slid over hers as he moved...the way her hot breath felt, the way the short hairs of his morning stubble rubbed against her neck as he kissed her there...the way she tasted as he once again sought her mouth. 

She gripped his ass with one hand, placing the other gently on the back of his neck, fingers teasing at ruffling his hair. He loved that. She was clenching around him. Doing it deliberately, in time with the rhythm of his strokes. "Tash," he groaned out. "I'm gonna..." and suddenly, he was. He let out a wordless cry. His hips jerked and stuttered to a halt as he fell on her, panting. 

She tapped his head with her hand. "Roll off. I'm not finished." 

He propped himself back up and slid down her body. "Let me take care of you." 

She rolled her eyes. "It'll take longer." 

"I keep telling you. We've got nowhere to be." He said. He leaned up to tie off the condom and hurl it in the direction of her trashcan. "Let me take care of you," he repeated, slowly slipping his hand underneath hers, taking over on the vibrator for her and slipping two fingers of the other hand inside her. 

"It wasn't thinking about me and Thor that got you this wet. What did you get up to, yesterday?" He pressed into her the way he knew she liked and moved the vibrator in little circles. 

She watched him and quirked her lips into a half-smile. "Steve went down on me on the kitchen counter." 

"Oh, fuck. That's hot." 

"For half an hour." She was breathing heavier, now.

"He must do jaw stretches every morning," Clint said.

"Stop fucking making me talk, or this is not going to happen," she said, through gritted teeth. He shut up and watched as her eyes closed. He concentrated on the little circles and on keeping his fingers crooked at the right angle inside her. He felt her tense and knew she was close, but knew better than to say anything till he heard her cry out and felt the muscles flutter around his fingers. He nosed the vibrator aside and licked her through the aftershocks, just to taste her, again. She clutched at his hair, yanking handfuls of it in her moment of abandon. Once her grip eased, he leaned back, and looked at her. 

She gave him the half-smile, again and stretched languorously. "Your hair looks ridiculous."  
He snorted. "Worth it." 

She grabbed his pillow and bapped him with it. "Now go on and take a shower. You ruined my morning routine." 

"Wow. I'm SO VERY SORRY, Natasha. I'll just leave immediately and never ruin your routine, again." Clint responded, with a roll of his eyes in her direction. 

"I'll see you for sparring later?" she asked as he moved back and she sat up.

He knew it was as much appreciation as he was likely to get. "Sure. I'll be there. Anything to get my sticky hands on you, again."

She chased him out of her suite and he snickered his way down the hall, still buck naked, since he'd left his pants in the living room the day before.


End file.
